and is this silence all you're going to say?
by sapphireswimming
Summary: It hadn't crossed their minds that Danny hadn't told anyone.


**This hit surprisingly close to home while writing. hmm.**

**Timelines: Before _The Ultimate Enemy_, so if Jazz knows Danny's secret, he doesn't know she knows. And, amorphously set anywhere after 2.16 (_Road Kill_) in Supernatural.**

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**and is this silence all you're going to say?**

June 8, 2014

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Dean pulled up to the curb and shut the engine off with a twist of the keys. He grinned at Sam and then the two of them stepped out of the car and walked up to the front door of FentonWorks: lab, weapons vault, operations center, house, and general headquarters of the Fenton family.

It had been years since they'd been here, but there was no mistaking their destination for anything else.

The door opened before they'd even gotten up the steps and Jack and Maddie poured out of the house to welcome them. Then Jazz and Danny grabbed the duffel bags loaded with guns, knives, and every anti-supernatural weapon the Winchesters felt it necessary to keep on their persons at all times to take to the guest bedroom.

"Hi, Jazz," Sam smiled as he let her take his bag.

"Heya, Danny!" Dean said, clapping the teenager on the shoulder before pulling back to get a good look at the bags under the kid's eyes. "How you doing, huh? Everything going alright with all of your… ghost stuff?" he asked with a vague tilt of the head.

Danny froze as his parents turned toward him, ears honing in on the topic of conversation even through the hubbub.

"Ghosts?" Jack asked loudly, looking around him as if one would pop out of the walls at any second.

Maddie's brow furrowed. "You're having ghost problems, sweetie?"

"No," he said too quickly. "Just, you know, ghost stuff. Around school. And Amity Park. And stuff. Not like it's _my_ ghost problems or anything," he trailed off into uneasy laughter.

Dean stared at him in shock, his mouth hanging open just long enough for him to collect thoughts into a coherent question when Sam viciously elbowed him in the ribs. Looking over at his brother in confusion, he understood enough from the glare to know that he needed to keep his mouth shut until the situation got explained.

He turned back to Jack and Maddie and gave them as large a smile as he could muster before clapping his hands together awkwardly and turning toward the staircase to follow Danny who had already escaped the conversation as soon as he could.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he could hear Sam behind him, keeping the attention on himself by talking about one of their hunts. From the fading description, he thought it was the one with the stretch of doubly haunted highway in Nevada. Good times.

At any rate, it was an interesting story. One that would keep the Fentons occupied while he went and grilled Danny because what he had walked into did not look anything like the situation he thought he was going to be walking into.

Ahead of him, Danny opened the door at the end of the hall to the guest room where Sam and Dean would be staying. He laid the duffel bag down— gently, so as not to accidentally discharge any loaded weapons— and started walking back to the hallway when Dean blocked him with an outstretched hand and closed the door behind him with a click.

Danny looked up briefly before keeping them glued to the carpet around his feet.

Dean looked down at him in silence for a few moments. He tried to count to ten but only made it to around six before he couldn't stay quiet any longer.

"Dude," he practically hissed, "what's wrong with you?"

Danny didn't say anything.

"You haven't told them?"

"I know," the teenager said quietly.

"You know?" Dean parroted disparagingly. "You know? But what happened to the plan? We had a plan; we talked about this months ago!"

"Yeah," Danny scoffed. "Over the phone. Then _you_ try to walk downstairs and actually tell them without any backup!" he challenged as he flopped down on the edge of the bed.

"No backup?" the hunter paled. "You don't have anyone who knows?" he asked quickly, about as close to panicking he ever came when he was talking about someone other than flesh and blood family.

"No, that's not…" Danny rushed to explain. "I do. Sam and Tucker. They were here when it happened so I didn't have to tell them. Plus, it would have been stupid to try to hide it from them…" he added.

"But… not your parents?" Dean asked pointedly.

Danny didn't say anything.

"Come on, Danny," Dean urged. "This is important."

"I know that, okay?" Danny said in a tightly controlled voice. "It's my life. I'm living it. I think I know that!"

Dean took a step back, trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing.

"Wait…so all this time when you've been telling me that you're out fighting ghosts…" he broke off to roughly pull his hands down his face. "You're parents don't know, do they? That's what that cover up was about downstairs. It's not just that you haven't told them about…" he searched for the word, "your accident. They don't even know you're hunting." he breathed, finding confirmation in the rigid set of the teenager's shoulders as he stared down at his listless fingers.

"They don't know you're out there punching ghosts' faces in," Dean said, the idea sounding even worse once he had voiced it. "You haven't told them," he accused.

"I can't tell them," Danny countered with a voice somewhere between weary and upset. "They'd never let me," he argued, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if that justified his decision. Don't tell the parents because they wouldn't let him do the dangerous ghost hunting. As if ghost hunting was more important than the truth or having his parents in his corner.

"Not as some scrawny defenceless teenager out there on his own with nothing they trust to back him up, maybe, but you can't really blame them for thinking like that if you don't explain things!" He sighed, realizing that the last thing Danny was going to listen to was him encouraging the kid to explain things. "But look," he pointed out, "Your parents have been trying to hook you up with some of their gadgets since you were like four. They'd love to train you to death and let you hunt ghosts."

"Yeah, with _them_," he replied forcefully. "With… with ghost weapons that will explode in my face if I try to use any ghost powers!" He stood up quickly and walked to the far side of the room, careful not to bump into the hunter as he began pacing. He threw his hands out, saying, "And I need them! I need them to fight because the ghosts know who I am. They're going to target me and whoever I'm with!"

Dean leaned back against the wall and put a hand over his mouth. "You speaking from experience here… or is this conjecture here and you making excuses?"

"No, I know, okay?" Danny snapped.

"And you don't think that this is a reason to let other people in on the secret?" Dean asked with a sharp tilt of his head. "All of your enemies know about your double identity but your own family doesn't?" Shaking his head, he pressed, "Come on, what kind of messed up deal is that?"

Danny spun around to fully face him for the first time, "It's my life, Dean!" he shouted.

Before either one of them could take a breath or think of how to respond to the tension between them, they froze and watched the door open, scared of who it might be and how much they had overheard. Dean's frame eased and Danny released a palpable sigh of relief when Sam's concerned face peeked around the door.

"Hey, guys," he said, unsure of what he was walking into as he slipped into the room and closed the door quietly behind him.

"Hi," Danny answered, subdued, eyes on his shoes.

Sam grimaced and turned to his brother for answers about the argument they'd obviously been having only moment before.

"Danny still hasn't told his parents yet," Dean explained tersely, crossing his arms and shooting a meaningful look at the younger Winchester.

Sam ignored it in deference to watching Danny in concern. His forehead crinkled but he didn't say anything as he waited for Danny to say something. When the teenager remained silent except for his small greeting, Sam ventured a softly curious and non-judgmental, "Why not?"

Danny looked up warily before sighing, "I just… can't, okay?"

"I'm going to need more than that, Danny," Sam said apologetically. "Why haven't you told them?"

Danny fidgeted. "Because it's easier not to."

Dean scoffed from his corner, grumbling about _how on earth could it be easier—_ until Sam jabbed him with an elbow.

"Why is it easier?" he asked, ignoring the way Dean hissed and gently rubbed his shoulder beside him.

"Because they don't know," Danny replied. "They don't have to worry about me fighting ghosts this way. And I don't put them in danger. It just… it works out better this way, okay?"

Sam tightened his lips but waited a moment before he responded. "Your parents… are worried about you. Really worried. They said you've been missing a lot of curfews and stuff and that they have to keep grounding you."

Danny smirked. "Like they could keep me inside if they wanted to."

Dean smirked back before realizing how rebellious that had sounded and dropping the expression. He was supposed to be advocating responsibility here and he couldn't afford to send mixed messages.

"They don't want to punish you, but because they don't know what's really going on, they don't see many other options. They're trying to keep you on the straight and narrow but don't realize they have nothing to worry about." At an incredulous look from Dean, he amended, "about that. I mean, we know what you do around here. We've been keeping up with the news and you have…" Sam broke off, searching for words. "You have handled this… all of this…" he waved to the city in general, "so much better than can be expected from anyone."

Danny looked up tentatively and saw nothing but pride and admiration on the faces of both hunters. He held his head up a little higher.

"Really?"

"Yeah, kid," Dean chuckled.

"You take care of this town a whole lot better than we would be able to," Sam said seriously and the teenager felt something stir in his chest.

"Yeah, we don't have that whole 'fight fire with fire' thing going for us," Dean said, waving his hands around a little.

"But, Danny…" Sam said slowly, "instead of being grounded all the time, wouldn't it be easier to tell your parents what you're doing? Once they realize, they'll understand how important it is and let you go do whatever it is you need to do."

Danny shook his head.

"No? That's not easier? I don't see how that's not easier," Dean said incredulously before leaning forward. "How is that not easier for you?"

Danny shifted his weight. "Because…" he murmured, "it's not worth it."

Sam canted his head. "Not worth what?"

"If I did that…" Danny said, "If I tell them that, then I would have to tell them about everything. About who I've been for the past year." He began to pace as he took in the enormity of that prospect. "It's too late," he decided. "How do you think they'll take it that I've kept this a secret for so long?"

"They'll understand," Dean reassured him. "They're your family; they'll get it."

Danny looked at him hard, trying to will the words to be the truth. But then he snapped back to reality when he realized that Dean's reasoning was severely flawed in this case.

Sam looked between the two of them with a grimace that was trying to be a smile.

"No, they won't, Dean," Danny countered sadly. "They're ghost hunters. They're scientists who want nothing more than to kill every single ghost they can find." He continued before Dean could interrupt him. "I've seen them inject stuff into the ghosts they've kept locked up in the basement and they experimented on all of the ones that didn't completely dissolve."

Sam flinched a little.

"As soon as they can find one that's solid enough, they're going to dissect it. So you think I can just go tell them that I'm exactly what they've been looking for all this time?"

"They're not going to dissect you, Danny," Sam cut in, concerned.

"That's crazy, dude," Dean pressed at the same time.

Both brothers agreed on that wholeheartedly, at least.

Danny stared at his shoes. "I know they won't," he finally agreed. "But they'll still ask a million questions. About what I am. And what I can do. And they're not just going to drop it because I don't know the answers. They're going to need to find out. They're scientists; it's like wired into their code. So they're going to come up with all of these tests and experiments for me."

Both brothers opened their mouths to respond and tell him that the experiments wouldn't involve scalpels but he shut them both down with a look.

"Jazz and I have been covered in goop and attacked by mutant turkeys and had our hair pulled out by the Fenton vacuum cleaner for all of our lives. That's just normal stuff. Those are accidents. What do you think my life will be like when they actually want to start making things that work on my specifically? Huh?" he asked. "They might not be trying to hurt me, but I can guarantee you that I have had some really close shaves in the house in the past couple months. Like really close. It's hard enough living like this just worrying about whether or not your house is going to try to kill you."

"If you tell them, though, they'll be able to dismantle the security system. Or keep it from targeting you or something," Sam pointed out. "I'm sure you can change that, right? Tinker with the coding or something," he asked, eyes sliding over to his brother for confirmation. Mechanics and the inner workings of electronics had never been his strong suit.

Dean nodded. "Absolutely. And if your parents can't figure it out, for some reason, or are having problems with it, I'll do it myself," he offered with his most supportive smile. "We can do this, Danny. I mean, you're the one who has to do this, but we can make it work out. We'll talk to them," he said earnestly. "Sam and I will explain things to your parents and if you want to just disappear after you tell them for a little bit, get out of the house, let them take it in, that's great and we'll stick around until you've got the all clear to come back and you've hashed things out and you don't want us around anymore. But," he added seriously, "you can't just bottle this up. It will kill you."

Danny shook his head. "I can't tell them, Dean."

"Danny…" the older hunter sighed.

"I can't," Danny interrupted. "You don't understand. I just… I can't tell them," he said shakily, struggling to pull his words together. "I tried," he admitted. "I tried a couple times at the beginning. Right after it happened but they just talked over me and didn't listen at all and then they were off hunting ghosts because, guess what, there were ghosts around and that's all they've been looking to do with their lives since before college."

He took a deep breath. "And they never saw it. They never realized what I was and it just got easier to not say anything. And then lie a little bit to pretend that it was all okay. I could have told them at first, maybe, if they had ever stopped to listen, but not now. Not after months of this."

"Why not?" Dean demanded.

Danny stared at him. "You have any idea…" he trailed off before coming to a decision. "No. No, I'm not going to do it," he said flatly, mouth pressed into a watery line and eyes fiery in defiance.

"Well, if you don't, then I will," Dean said, more promise than threat.

Danny paled. "No!" he managed to say despite all of the air having whooshed out of his lungs.

"Dean!" Sam bellowed with a death glare. "That is not your place. Sit down."

Dean stared at his brother for a minute, arguing in hard eyes and sharp exhales through his nose before finally sitting back down with a huff.

"Your parents need to know," he groused, half turning back to Danny with as much apology as he was going to give.

Danny wasn't looking at him, though, but had his eyes fixed on the bottom of his bedspread as it nearly reached the floor in an uneven line. "I can't…" he licked his lips. "I can't put them through that," he said.

"Can't put them through what?" Sam asked quietly.

Danny looked up. "They're ghost hunters," he said, lip trembling before he bit it back. "They hunt ghosts," he spelled out. "All ghosts. And _especially_ Danny Phantom. He's their number one target and they've been ranting about him at the dinner table every night since the first time they saw him. They've even gotten in a couple lucky hits."

Suddenly, the first aid kit stuffed under the bed didn't seem as good a thing as Dean had originally thought.

"They've shot me," Danny said. "They didn't know or they wouldn't have," he rushed to add, "but they _did_ and I can't… I can't tell them now. I can't let them blame themselves for that because they will. They'd never look at me the same again and not just because I'm a freak." Sam's eyes softened and Dean looked ready to interrupt again, but Danny didn't see it as he continued, his eyes became glassier. "They'd never be the same again. And I can't do that to my family, Dean."

He finally looked up at him. "I can't. And you can't ask me to. Not that."

Then, to convince him or them, he added, "It's easier this way. Just… keep going like we have been."

Dean clenched his jaw, taking in the teenager's arguments. "And what about when your parents finally get a great hit in, huh?" he asked roughly. "And you fall down to earth and transform in front of them. How's that going to turn out? You'd rather have that?"

"Dean…" Sam admonished.

"No, Sam," he countered, "this can't go on like this. It's just going to get worse and worse and you know it. This is going to end up killing you, Danny. And when it kills you it's going to kill your parents too. And Jazz. How is that helping them? How is that helping _anyone_?" He leaned forward. "I know that this is going to be the hardest thing in the world to do. I get that, okay? I do. But I promise you, I promise, that this is the right thing to do. And it will save you pain and tears and bloodshed further down the road. Stop this now before it gets any worse. Before it gets even harder than this. Because it's just going to get harder the longer you let this go. But you have to do it now. You have to do it before they've really hurt you. You're both on the same side on this. You just need to let them know that. You can work this all out together," he pleaded. "Right, Sam?"

His brother didn't say anything.

"Sam?" Dean asked, turning around on the bed to look up at his brother leaning up against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and eyes across the room.

"Oh come on, what now?" Dean asked, hardly believing that his brother needed to be convinced of this course of action as well. "You think Danny should just keep this all in the dark?"

Sam looked up.

Dean scoffed, "You're not serious. Sam!" he drew out.

"Look," Sam sighed. "Not everything can be fixed with such a straightforward approach, Dean. This isn't that simple. And it's foolhardy and naïve of you to think that just telling Jack and Maddie will make everything somehow magically better. Danny's right," he said with a gesture to the kid, "there are things that won't be resolved so easily."

"But they're not getting resolved at all right now," Dean argued. "And shouldn't they all at least be on the same side here? They're his family, they deserve to know."

"They gave up that right when they shot him, Dean," Sam said somberly.

"They shot him because they didn't know! Because he didn't tell them. Which is the whole problem."

"Dean, stop making this so black and white."

"I'm not making anything anything," Dean protested. "It is this black and white. He needs to tell them or this is going to get really, really bad."

"Dean, that's like asking him to live as a ghost with a family of hunters," Sam tried to explain, eyebrows raised like whenever Dean needed lecturing on something that was particularly obvious.

"So?" Dean asked. "They're family. Family sticks together like that. They don't turn on each other."

"Oh?" Sam asked. "So what, Gordon didn't turn on his sister?"

Dean was taken aback. "She was… that was different. Gordon's a seriously crazed up whackjob. That doesn't count," he said. "But dude," he pressed, "we lived through this. Back with Azazel. Things were better once I knew what was going on and we could come at the problem together."

"Oh really?" his younger brother scoffed.

"Yes, Sam, really," Dean tilted his head forward, wondering how else he could say this.

"Well, there's a reason we didn't tell Dad about my visions," Sam pointed out.

Dean balked. Blinked. "I… what? We… we didn't tell Dad because we couldn't get hold of him. He wasn't answering his phone."

"No, Dean," Sam said. "You never even left him a message. And I sure as hell wasn't going to." He didn't back down from his argument in face of even the lost expression on his brother's face. "Come on, tell John Winchester that you're having death omens? You'd have to be crazy."

"But," Dean fumbled for words, "He was on your side as soon as he knew."

"Yeah, because we were on the demon's trail and it wasn't like he could afford to have any other response."

Dean stared at him slack jawed, completely forgetting for a moment whose room they were in and why.

"But… you told me…" he finally said.

"Yeah. I did," Sam allowed.

"And things got better after that, right? When we were coming at it together?"

Sam smiled quickly into the beginnings of a bitter laugh. "No, Dean," he said as if his brother could have forgotten the tribulations of that year that threatened to tear their lives apart. "That was when everything started going to hell."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, but… it would have been worse if I didn't have a clue what was happening, right?"

Sam looked at him for a long moment. "I guess so," he said quietly.

Dean nodded, regaining his equilibrium. "So…" he cleared his throat, "so you're still suggesting that Danny go through his life without that kind of support and backup? Keep it a secret? Because when has that _ever _worked for us, Sam? When?"

The younger Winchester sighed. "Look, this is Danny's decision. It's his life, his family, his secret. He's got to be the one to do whatever he does. You are not going to tell anyone anything because it's not your place. You've given him your advice. I've given him mine. He's a responsible kid and it's his choice. He's got to make it himself. And you're going to stick by whatever decision that is. Got it?"

Dean looked hard at his brother, then over at Danny, and then back up to Sam. He nodded glumly. "Yeah."


End file.
